


keep your wits, and hold your head high

by BuiltUpWithCatsAndTeaToMatch



Series: Together, Always [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Betrayal, Deception, Gen, Kinda, Mind Control, Murder, Poaching, Running Away, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Villain Deceit Sanders, hes more of a good guy on the wrong side, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuiltUpWithCatsAndTeaToMatch/pseuds/BuiltUpWithCatsAndTeaToMatch
Summary: Logan wasn’t always the sole survivor.( part two of the sanders sides fic bingo : someone mentions crofters, deceit is an antagonist, “falsehood” is used )
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders & Deceit Sanders
Series: Together, Always [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634137
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	keep your wits, and hold your head high

A young Logan sits on the couch, legs crossed over each other. Soft, dark hair falls over his forehead, glowing just as strong as the rest of his body in the dark light. 

Around him, his siblings mill around, all excited for when their father will return, and they can start to celebrate the eve of the New Year just as they always had.

Presents lay around the glow of the fireplace, ones that Logan occasionally has to reprimand his siblings from grabbing to see what lies inside.

” _Karmo_ _!_ ” He hisses. “Don’t touch those, they aren’t ready!”

The younger Starbed whines loudly at him, only to be interrupted by Sonya, their little sister.

”I hope we’ll get Crofters cake! Momma always makes the best ones!”

”Well, with society getting all iffy about the Starbeds, I doubt we have enough material to even make a regular cake” it’s Dee that speaks, voice soft yet steady. He’s not a Starbed, but he’s part of the family. Even if he did have a tendency to do... that.

”Falsehood, I’m sure we’ll be just fine” Logan speaks over the varying cries of emotion of his other siblings. Dee flashes him a cheeky smirk, and Logan rolls his eyes.

He’s a Derimo, as tall as their father’s shoulder despite being ten. Lanky and long, with pale skin and flashy emerald eyes. His long fingers were sharp as blades, blonde hair falling over his scaled face. His legs shifted back and forth in between a long serpents tail and regular legs. Currently, it was a long, thick golden scaled snake tail, curling around his body as he rested.

Suddenly, the door pushes open with a creak, and a beefy Starbed steps in, white snow tumbling off his boots, and every child perks up.

They all greet him excitedly, most running up to hug him, though Dee and Logan lie still on the couch, watching with faint smiles.

His mother pops out from the kitchen, smiling, though Logan can tell it’s strained. Always strained lately. It’s probably got to do with the current poaching beginning the bubble across society.

She meets the eyes of her husband, who smiles softly at her as he bounces and hugs the children all dashing around his legs. 

Silent words pass between them. Logan looks at Dee.

Dee watches the children play, glancing at Logan with a soft grin, though there’s a darkness behind those emerald eyes.

Logan stares at him quizzically. Dee blinks bashfully at him, biting his lip.

Then, his father is sitting down at the couch, their siblings all clambering excitedly around him. Their mother sits next to him, looking weary but joyful.

And so, they continue on with their evening, practically shoving a delicious dinner made of all the foods they can’t usually get their hands on these days before they have a desert, which is, as always, their mother’s Crofters Cake.

Logan elbows Dee almost playfully as she walks in with it. “Told you” he whispers.

Dee rolls his eyes.

The last thing free their family time is presents, which gets every child bouncing.

The youngest goes first, which Logan is fine with. 

He watches his younger siblings open and gape over their presents, holding them close and hugging their parents. 

Finally, as the eldest, Logan goes, carefully unwrapping and opening his present.

He pulls out an old cloak bigger than his whole body. It’s a nice, silky but protective fabric, mimicking a galaxy covered in stars.

He gapes, and, for once in his life, is at a loss for words.

He swings his head to his mother and father. He tries for words, when they cut him off.

”Yes” his mother nods, voice soft and almost tearful.

His father pulls out a long wooden staff for him, long like a branch but sturdy as the trunk. It bends like a cane, though it is far from a simple walking tool. Hanging from it are several crystals of several different shapes and colours. They seem to glow and whisper as Logan holds the staff in his hands.

His mother hands him a hefty leather book, scrawled in by the hands of his ancestors.

He holds it close, holding the staff tight as his mother wraps the cloak tightly around his shoulders. It seems to melt into him, and all at once, he feels something click into place. The power surges through his palms, and though he knows no spells, he feels the objects in his hands choose him as their new wearer.

He beams with pride, glowing brighter than ever as he stares into the faces of his siblings, who look on with awe and surprise.

Theres a knock on the door.

The moment is ruined.

They glance around at each other, confusion plain on their faces, before his father gets up, striding off towards the door.

He opens it, and hasn’t even begun to speak before a sword stabs directly through his chest, leaving him gasping.

They scream, loud and horrified, as their mother shakily puts herself between them and the intruder, yanking them close behind her.

Their father sputters out a breath, and the sword rips back out, fresh with his black blood. He falls to the floor with a loud thump, dead as a shell.

Two people stride in, glancing around before they meet the eyes of his mother, who bites her lip to quell the tears that her children are letting flow.

The person at the door smiles, and with barely a twitch of his hand, he calls forth a third person, a creature that runs swift on fours, covered in thick black flesh and hard golden eyes. They run up, faster than a bolt of lightning, and Logan has barely any time to think before a twisted silver blade is stabbing into his mother’s throat, slicing it quick and smooth. It bounces off back to its fellows as quick as it came, returning to the grinning man just as Logan’s mother falls to the floor, dead like his father.

Then it’s war. 

People of all species fill in, flooding the place as they dash around with their weapons. Logan gets lost quick in the mess, fighting as much as he knows how with his new staff and the objects he finds around the room, though mostly, he tries to dodge and find his siblings.

Just as he breaks a vase over the head of his pursuer, he hears it.

”You _promised_!” It’s Dee’s voice, shattered and shaking with tears.

”We changed our minds” an older voice sneers back.

”You-You promised if I went with you, if I joined your ranks and did what you said, you’d keep my family safe from harm! You liar! You broke it!”

”Too late, bub. Your family’s gone, we’re all you’ve got left.”

Logan runs to him, dashing as fast as he can. He holds the staff tight between his hands, and-

The man spots him first, grabbing Dee’s wrists and twisting them with quick agility. He shoves a throwing knife into Dee’s hand, and before either can think, his hand is guiding Dee’s, and the blade lands into Logan’s leg with a cry from both brothers.

Logan stumbles, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins keeps him up. 

Then, the man is yanking Dee’s wrist, forcing the boy to look him in the eyes.

” _Finish the job_ ” he hisses.

And suddenly Dee is on him, slithering after him at top speed, though he can see in his eyes he doesn’t want to.

Logan leads him in the office, a room void of people. His back thumps against the bookshelf, and his hands are white around his staff.

Dee comes at him, holding a sharp dagger in his hand.

Dee punched him hard in the chest, tail swiping around to tighten around his legs as he tumbles.

Dee leans forwards, tears streaming down his face.

The blade aims at Logan’s throat.

Logan prepares for death, swallowing his fear to meet Dee’s tearful eyes.

His family’s dead. He’s got no hope, but he’s not going to meet death with closed eyes.

The knife swoops, and he readies himself for pain.

Then, it stops.

He blinks.

Des stands above him, face contorted in determination. His tail relaxes, and Logan stumbles away from his grip.

”Go” Dee hisses, voice choked.

Logan stares at him, shaking horribly.

”What are you doing?” Dee hisses hurriedly. “ _Go!_ ”

Logan smiles faintly at him, though it’s wobbly. “Keep your wits” he whispers.

Dee manages to smile back at him. “And hold your head high” he finishes.

Logan nods, turns, and runs.

Only when he’s far enough from the battle does he let his tears fall, tumbling down his cheeks as he bolts through the woods.

He hopes when he meets his brother again, he won’t try and kill him.

But deep down Logan knows it’s not true.

He might as well try and find camp, and try not to think about how his family, from the baby his mother held to the growing Karmo, are dead on the floor of the house on 88th street.

Because he knows that the place is far from home now.


End file.
